Dark into Love
by Breath of Talent
Summary: A new student arrives at Hogwarts, one that immediately catches Draco's eye. What will he do when he has to interact with her? How will he take it? DracoOC Rating may change...
1. What's happening to me?

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling, except for the OC.**

* * *

_All of the darkness that he felt inside...his hatred towards every living thing and those of darker worlds...seemed to dissolve, when he looked into those bright green eyes._

* * *

It was mid-afternoon on a sunny September day, and a seventh year Slytherin student, Draco Malfoy, was heading to his last class of the day: Potions. His Head of House, Professor Severus Snape, was the teacher of this class. With his greasy black hair, sallow complexion, and a temper like a lion, it was no wonder that most students chose other classes as their favourite above Potions. Draco, on the other hand, had always admired the Professor's teachings; with his eye set on the Defence Against the Dark Arts position at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Snape found most students to be quite a waste of time, except for Draco and most Slytherin students. Not wanting to be given another detention for being tardy, Draco took a seat next to his bodyguard-like friends, Crabbe and Goyle.

"Silence, or the whole class will be given lines!" Professor Snape hissed, closing a tatty black briefcase. He stood up, taller and more menacing in his billowing black robes, and walked slowly to the front of his desk.

"You all know, I presume, that your N.E.W.Ts exams are growing steadily nearer," he talked, his voice as oily as his skin. "The exam will be given to one person at a time, and I _do_ hope all of you are prepared." At this, his lip curled, as he stared at Neville Longbottom, a Gryffindor seventh year who was terribly forgetful and clumsy. "You will also know," he continued, "that the preparation for the exams is independent, until I say further. As for the dream trio," he added, walking over to a nearby group occupied by Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger, "I think it best if I split you up immediately."

Draco smirked. He loved to see his rival of seven years, Harry Potter, being tormented by Snape. He himself had tried to make Harry's life (along with Weasley and Granger's) as miserable and humiliating as possible throughout the years, though many of his plans backfired. Harry looked over at him, a similar smirk on his face.

"Professor, sir," he said quietly, "don't you think it unfair not to split up Malfoy's group?"

"That," said Snape, his lip curling, "is a decision that will be up to me."

"Ha," muttered Malfoy, his pearly white teeth glittering through a small smile. He loved to get his way: he always had, and as Snape passed his, Crabbe's, and Goyle's cauldrons, he smiled at them.

"Now," said Snape, again at the front of the class, "I want you all to work on the Visible potion. This potion gives light to any persons or objects that have been struck with an Invisibility spell. MISS GRANGER, PUT YOUR HAND DOWN!" Snape shouted, as Hermione's hand shot into the air. Bushy brown hair surrounding her face, Hermione had been the smartest person in her year, and was probably about to tell the fuming Professor that she already knew how to conjure the potion.

"I would expect a know-it-all to have no questions," said Snape, his voice now a deadly quiet. "Ten points from Gryffindor, for a question not worthy of answering."

Draco, along with many of the Slytherins, was shaking with silent laughter. Malfoy's slicked platinum blonde hair was shaking silently, as well as his hands that he had to cup over his mouth. Hermione, looking as though about to cry, slowly put her hand down, and opened her book, as well as Harry and Ron, who had moved to separate ends of the stingy dungeon classroom.

"I want to hear no talking, as this is an independent assignment," ordered Snape, moving around his desk and sitting down behind it. "Page 356 of Advanced Potion Making will give you exact instructions. Begin."

But before they could begin, the door to the dungeon opened, and a tall, hooded figure stood in the doorway. Snape, looking venomous, brought his eyes up from the attendance list.

"May I help you?" he hissed, staring at the hooded figure.

"Is this Professor Snape's potion class?" asked the figure, holding up a piece of parchment. It was clearly a girl; her voice was breathy and high.

"Yes, and who may you be?" he asked, looking agitated at this disturbance.

"Beaux Markowitz, sir. I'm the new seventh year in Slytherin." She put the piece of parchment back into her robes, and brought both of her hands up to her hooded face.

Draco gasped, along with many others, when she pulled her hood away. She was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. She had beautiful light brown hair, pulled back into two French braids that snaked down to her lower back. Her skin was porcelain white, like the color of a small china doll. Her lips were blood red, but what made Draco shudder and gasp yet again were her eyes. Her eyes, round and glittering, were the brightest green he had ever seen: greener, if possible, than famous, stupid Harry Potter's. And then, as she walked toward Professor Snape's desk, Malfoy got the most odd feeling. All of the darkness that he felt inside...his hatred towards every living thing and those of darker worlds...seemed to dissolve, when he looked into those bright green eyes.

She again took the parchment out of her robes, and handed it over to Snape. He read it quickly, then crumpled it into a ball and threw it aside.

"Very well, Miss Markowitz, take a seat next to those three boys," Snape ordered, waving his hand carelessly in Draco's direction as he began again with the attendance list. Beaux's head turned towards his group, and she walked over, her steps barely echoing on the hard stone floor.

Draco, who had been staring at her for quite some time, put his eyes down back to his book, which wasn't even open yet. He opened it up, though his hands were sweaty for some reason, and began reading. It wasn't until she sat down opposite him that he looked up, as if for the first time.

"Hello," she whispered, smiling widely. Her teeth seemed to fill her whole mouth, big and pearly, exactly like Draco's.

"Hey," said Draco, trying to act casual as he reached for the bat's wing ingredient. Instead of being casual, however, he bumped his cauldron with his arm, and steaming water slopped over the edges. He looked up; apparently, neither Beaux nor Snape had noticed.

"What's your name?" she asked, handing him the bat's wing over his cauldron.

"Draco Malfoy," he muttered, his face turning slightly pink with embarrassment. He had no idea why he felt this way, and as he looked up at her again, he couldn't help stare into her eyes, which were like two identical glittering green diamonds. "Oh, and this is Crabbe, and...er...Goyle," he said, gesturing to the two bulging bodies on either side of him, though he confused their names with one another.

"Erm...what are we supposed to be doing? Professor Snape didn't give me any directions," she said quietly, looking around at the teacher, not noticing the few stares still looking at her. Draco looked around as well; he noticed Harry Potter watching her, as well as Ron Weasley, whose jaw had dropped open. He sniggered in their direction, and then looked back at Beaux, who was yet again staring at him, her smile wider than before.

"Uh, we're supposed to be conjuring, the, um, Invisibility...no, the Visible Potion," he said, stuttering. He couldn't keep his eyes off of her, but she didn't seem to care. She opened up a black sack, embroidered with a small white snake, and took out the Advanced Potion Making book, though it was slightly shabby. She looked over the cauldrons at Draco's book, and he turned it around so she could see the number of the page.

"Thanks," she whispered, opening up to the page. She began adding the ingredients to her potion, but not before Neville Longbottom had yet again done something stupid enough to his potion, which was emitting green and orange sparks. While Snape muttered "idiot boy" and went to fix Neville's potion, Draco seized the chance to talk.

"So, where did you transfer from?" he asked her, now cutting up gecko's tail, though quite unevenly.

"Well, I was at Camilla's Private Witch School for two years, before switching to Baxton's School of Witchcraft, and then I came here," she said, stirring the contents in her cauldron, which had turned an electric blue.

"So you went to Private schools for just witches?" he asked, sounding envious: he had asked his parents thousands of times if he could transfer to a private wizardry school, but they had refused. At the moment, however, Draco did not want to go anywhere except deeper into those green eyes.

"Yes, but it was terrible. I hated it, so my grandparents transferred me here, where I could make friends with more students. Camilla's and Baxton's schools were quite small, only allowing about one hundred girls to be accepted, so here there is more of an opportunity for me," she told him, saying this all very fast; she was now ladling the contents from her cauldron into a small beaker, and setting it aside. Draco had only just begun adding his contents.

"You seem pretty girl...I, I mean, pretty good at Potion making," he said, turning an even darker shade of pink: Beaux, on the other hand, had at that exact moment moved her chair closer to the table, so he prayed that she had not heard him say "pretty girl."

"Well, my grandmother was the Professor of Potions at Camilla's, so I had extra training, but yes, you could say I'm okay at it," she said, smiling. "So, what's Hogwarts like? I heard Harry Potter goes here," she said, looking around the dungeon.

"Oh yea, he goes here," muttered Draco, his spirits falling: she seemed more interested in hearing about stupid, famous Potter than himself. "He's in Gryffindor, my year." He pointed him out for her, and she smiled at Harry, who was until that point gawking at her. Draco didn't see why; he had been going out with Ravenclaw Prefect Cho Chang since the end of last year, although she had graduated from Hogwarts. When Harry saw Draco pointing him out to Beaux, he put his eyes down, but not before sniggering at Draco first. He sniggered back. "We don't get along at all," he added, as they both turned back to their cauldrons.

"Oh?" she asked, turning back towards him, her eyebrows raised. "Is there a rivalry between you two? Or is it a whole different house reason?"

"Well, Slytherin and Gryffindor have never really gotten along, so I guess you could say that, but we've been rivals since our first year here," he answered, stirring his potion carelessly.

"Oh, that's a shame," Beaux said, her smile turning into a small frown. "I hope I can still make friends with them, though. The other Gryffindors, I mean. There's not a really big difference between everybody. I mean, I'm a pure-blood, and I know that's a big concern here, but that's nothing to be boastful about."

Draco looked down. He had always teased Hermione Granger for being a Mudblood, or a person of Muggle parentage, but he could understand now that it wasn't truly that big of a difference.

"But, I'm still wondering, what is Hogwarts like?" Beaux asked, putting her elbows on the table and resting her head in her hands, looking at Draco with interest.

"Well, Dumbledore is the Headmaster, I've never really liked him, and there are four houses: Slytherin, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Gryffindor. You can earn house points and lose house points, and the house with the most points at the end of the year is rewarded the house cup. There's also Quidditch..."he began, but he was interrupted by Beaux.

"Quidditch?!" she said, a little too loud, causing a few heads to turn. "I love Quidditch! I was the Seeker for Camilla's school: we played other schools once a month. We only lost one game the whole time I was there, and that was because I was hit in the stomach with a bludger right before I was about to catch the Snitch, but the Seeker from Armalee's Witchcraft caught it."

"I'm the seeker for Slytherin," Draco said proudly, his chest swelling with pride. This was good: they both had an interest in Quidditch.

"Really? Excellent! I bet you're really good!" she whispered, moving her chair closer to the table. Crabbe and Goyle looked at her: apparently it looked as though they had never seen a girl before. But Draco wasn't paying attention to them: Beaux had just complimented him on something: he smiled at her, his heart thudding.

_What is happening to me? _he thought to himself, scooping some of his potion out of his cauldron and into a beaker. _Why am I feeling this way? _

At that precise moment, the bell for end of class rang, and Snape spat at the class, "Bring all potions up to my desk for checking. You will have your grades by tomorrow." He stared pitifully at Neville Longbottom, who looked as though he were about to be sick; his potion had turned an unnatural shade of green.

Beaux stood up, along with the rest of the class. Draco, not paying attention, accidentally tripped over his robes standing up, stumbling forward a little bit. Beaux smiled, giggling slightly. He looked at her, his neat, slicked back hair in his face. He had to make up for his foolishness.

"I'll take that up for you," he told her, motioning towards her beaker.

"Oh. Thank you," she said, handing it to him gently. His hand brushed hers; her hands were soft and smooth, and he wanted to hold them in his own. But he realized that he was still holding her hands with the beaker, and grabbed the beaker quickly away from her, along with his own.

As he walked out of the dungeon with Crabbe and Goyle five minutes later, he heard her voice.

"Draco! Hold on!" Beaux shouted through the crowded corridor, pushing past a bunch of second years. He turned around, surprised that he had forgotten about her that quickly. He didn't how he had forgotten her, with her striking green eyes. He stopped, and waited, having people pass around them.

"I don't know where the Slytherin common room is," she told him, pushing her braids around to her back.

"Could you show me?"

"Yea, sure, it's right down here," he said, and they walked down the corridor together, Crabbe on Draco's left and Goyle on Beaux's right.

* * *

It had been three months since Beaux had come to Hogwarts, and Draco still couldn't figure out why he felt the way he did about her. Indeed, she was the sweetest and kindest girl in the entire school not to mention probably the prettiest (in Draco's opinion), courteous to all her fellow students, though Draco thought this a bit strange. "Still," he said to Crabbe and Goyle one day in the Slytherin common room, "she's trying to make an effort to make friends, though she doesn't need to try very hard, does she?"

Why do I even bother with these goofs? He wondered pointlessly, as Crabbe and Goyle nodded slowly and stupidly, their small beady eyes blank.

"Well, I'm going up to the grounds for some Quidditch practice. Erm...why don't you two just stay here, and you won't get locked in the equipment closet again?" Draco muttered, grabbing his broom and leaving his two friends sitting in the common room and not waiting for an answer. They always listened to what he said, for he was the smartest of them, obviously.

When he came up onto the grounds, Draco was surprised to see it already occupied; it was quite early in the morning, not more than seven thirty, yet a small dot was flying (quite gracefully) around the Quidditch pitch. He had to give the person flying credit; it looked as though they had been doing it for years. They sped quickly around the gold hoops, and Draco caught a glimpse of gold.

"Whoever it is has Seeker skills," he whispered to himself, watching impressively as the person caught the Snitch easily between their fingers. They swooped once around the golden goal posts, and landed swiftly on the ground. Eager to see who it was, and realizing they were wearing Slytherin robes, Draco hurried towards the pitch.

"You there!" he shouted, as the person put away the Snitch into the Quidditch box. "What are you doing out here?"

"Oh!" they cried, and Draco was very surprised to recognize the voice. The startled student had let go of the box in surprise, and it had landed painfully on her right hand. Draco, his heart pumping and his stomach doing flip-flops, ran to the girl's side. He lifted the hood of her robes off her head, and locks of light brown curls fell to her knees. She looked up, with her bright green eyes, and smiled.

"Draco! You startled me!" Beaux said, her voice barely covering up the pain in which her hand was in.

"I...I didn't know anyone else was up, and, well, I wanted to get in some flying, because I haven't done it for so long, and well...you aren't going to tell on me, are you?" she looked at him, her eyes watering with pain.

"What? No, of course not, Beaux!" he said, slightly surprised. "I was just coming down here myself to practice; we have a game next Friday against Gryffindor. Are you okay?" he asked, looking at her hand; her porcelain white skin had become bruised around her fingers, and was starting to swell.

"Oh, it's nothing, I just need some ice," she said, looking embarrassed. Draco made a grab for her hand, out of instinct and emotion, and touched her softly. She winced, and he pulled back.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean..." he started, the words becoming mixed around his tongue. He didn't know why he had grabbed her hand. Maybe to comfort her?

"No...it's all right, you're just trying...trying to help," she said, smiling at him. Her teeth gleamed in the early morning light, and Draco's heart did a somersault.

"Er...okay," he said, and he pulled Beaux to her feet with her left hand, taking out his wand.

"What are you going to do?" she asked, looking at Draco curiously.

"I'm going to try something," he said, looking into her eyes, but looking back down at his robes; could he be any more obvious that he cared about her?

"Alright," she said, handing him her right hand, which had slowly swollen and was purple and blue.

"Immendo!" Draco muttered, pointing his wand at her hand, and instantly, in a flash of bright blue light, the bruises faded and the swelling disappeared. Beaux gave a gasp of surprise.

"When did you learn that?" she asked admiringly, looking at her hand as though she couldn't quite believe it.

"I learned it in third year, after an accident with a Hippogriff," he said, blushing.

"That would've been useful to me last year in Baxton's, because I broke my leg in Quidditch against Mistress Ristella's Witchery School."

"Ouch!" Draco said, as he and Beaux walked back up to the school; he had completely forgot about practicing.

"Yea," she said, laughing a little. "Clumsy me fell off my broom in order to miss a Bludger coming at my head. Needless to say, that was the last game of the year, and even though I somehow landed on the Snitch, which counts as catching, we won."

"Excellent," Draco said, smiling. He was impressed; if it had been him, he would've probably been rolling around in pain.

"So, um, are you going home for holidays?" Beaux asked, opening Hogwart's front doors that lead to the Great Hall.

"Are you?" he asked, holding the door for her.

"Well, my grandparents are leaving for Ireland to see the Quidditch World Cup, and I wanted to stay at Hogwarts for the holidays, I heard it's beautiful here when it snows," she said, as they walked to the Slytherin table for breakfast. "What are you doing?"

"Erm..." Draco stuttered, trying to find a lie that he could tell Beaux in order to stay for the holidays that would sound impressive about his parents.

"My father is going on a business trip for the Ministry, and mother is, um, going with him," he said, gathering a plateful of food.

"So...are you staying here?" Beaux asked, grabbing a rather small plate of eggs and sausage with a cup of tea. Draco nodded his head, so as not to spray food all over Beaux, and swallowed. They sat in silence for a while, eating their food, when Hermione Granger walked up to them. Draco looked up, a sneer on his face.

"Are you confused, Granger?" he asked her, gritting through his teeth. "The Gryffindor table is over there," and he pointed back at the last table on the right, where Harry Potter and Ron Weasley were eating.

"No, I'm not," she said in the same bossy I'm-right-about-everything voice. "I wanted to speak to Beaux."

Mandy looked up; she seemed to have been trying to keep out of the conversation, so as not to start a row.

"Yes, Hermione?" she asked, looking at Draco with a stare; he knew this stare quite well: it meant "please don't say anything mean to her around me," because Beaux didn't like speaking about other people rudely as Draco did.

"Are you going to Hogsmeade this weekend? It's the last before holidays, and I wanted to see if you would want to get some last-minute Christmas shopping done with me," she said quickly, as Harry and Ron had turned around, gaping, at Hermione. They had no problem with Beaux; she had been very nice to both of them, and everybody, in fact. But the vision of Hermione in such close contact with Draco and the Slytherins without a riot going on seemed nothing short of a miracle.

"Oh, well, sure Hermione, I had no idea about the visit to Hogsmeade!" she said, smiling a beautiful smile in which Draco could not ignore; even while eating, she somehow seemed to keep her teeth perfectly white. His heart sank; he had wanted to ask Beaux to come with him to Hogsmeade, so as to maybe propose a date. Beaux seemed to have noticed the disappointment on Draco's face, because she asked, "is there something wrong, Draco?"

Hermione sneered at him, a great loathing in her eyes. She looked back at Beaux, and said "I'll see you at The Three Broomsticks around one then?"

"Sure, Hermione, one it is," Beaux said brightly, not taking her eyes off Draco, who was determinedly looking down into his oatmeal.

"Well, 'bye then," she said, and walked back off to the Gryffindor table.

"Draco? What's wrong?" Beaux asked him again, putting her hand on his. He jumped a little; her hand was warm and smooth.

"I just...well, I wanted to know if...if you wanted to come to Hogsmeade with me," he stuttered, still not looking at Beaux. "But you already have plans..."

"No!" she said, so loud that half the hall quieted and looked at her. She took Draco's chin, and brought it up gently with her finger, so that he was staring into her eyes, which were full of excitement.

"'No' what?" he said pulling his hand away from hers.

"I mean, no, I don't have plans after I go shopping with Hermione," she said, smiling at him. "I'll just tell her I made plans with someone else to meet at the Boar's Head, and...well...would you like to meet me there at four?"

The bell rang for first class, and Draco and Beaux got up, the Slytherins and other students walking around them.

"Erm...okay," he said, and smiled a goofy smile.

"Excellent!" she said, grabbed her snake-embroidered backpack, which Draco hadn't noticed she was carrying. She started to walk ahead of him, but Draco had suddenly forgot...

"Hey, Beaux!" he yelled, and she turned around, her locks flipping around to her back.

"Yeah?" she said, coming back to him, getting pushed by some of the students going to their classes.

"I...I forgot what class we have," he said, laughing a little.

"We have Charms right now," she told him, and they walked out of the hall together, laughing.

* * *

The afternoon at Hogsmeade had everybody in a Christmas mood; great green fur oak trees towered over the stores; snow was falling gently outside of The Three Broomsticks, where Hermione and Beaux were emerging, carrying a dozen bags between them. They laughed and giggled merrily, and waved back inside the pub, where Harry and Ron were waiting for Neville and Seamus Finnigan.

"I had such a fun time, Beaux!" Hermione said, gasping after laughing so hard. "I just know that Ron will love the Readers Guide to Creating Your Own Joke shop book you got for him! It seems he wants to follow in Fred and George's footsteps, they became Joke shop owners in their last year at Hogwarts, too."

"You think that's okay?" Beaux asked her, taking out the book and looking through the pages.

"Oh, most definitely," Hermione said, brushing some of her hair out of her eyes.

"And what about Harry's?" she asked, pulling out a gold glittering Snitch that resembled the actual one used in Quidditch. She tapped it gently and it floated above their heads, its miniscule wings flapping silently in the snow.

"Excellent choice!" Hermione told her, as she tapped the Snitch again and it fell back into the bag. "He's very much into Quidditch."

"Well, I've got to go meet Draco at the Boar's Head, and I think that's a little ways from here, so I'll see you back at Hogwarts!" Beaux called, trampling the glittering snow on the ground.

"Alright! Happy Christmas, Beaux!" Hermione called to her, and hurried into The Three Broomsticks as the snow started to drift down harder.

Beaux found the Boars' Head partly hidden behind Zonko's Joke shop and a small candy store, and opened the musty door. A bell clanged softly overhead, and the few people that were in the pub looked at her. Draco, sitting with his back to the door, turned around, and stood up, smiling. He had doubted whether Beaux would keep her promise, though she didn't seem the type to lie.

"Hi," Draco said, not being able to think of anything at the moment.

"Hullo," she said, her hair damp from the melting snow in her hair. Her eyes, greener than ever, were alive with excitement and sit down, I ordered some butterbeer for us," Draco said, and he took a few of her bags, which

he was surprised were quite heavy. "How in Merlin's name did you manage to carry all these?" he asked her as they sat down in a stingy old booth.

"I put a charm on them, to make them lighter, but it only works with the one who cast it," she told him, sipping some of her butterbeer. "So, how has your day been?"

"Alright, I guess," he said, shrugging his shoulders; it was quite all right at the moment, because he was practically alone with Beaux.

"I bought you something," she said to him after a few moments of silence, and searched through a small paper bag and took out a gift wrapped in foil. "I know it's not much, but it's not your real Christmas present; it's just sort of a thank you gift, for making me feel at home at Hogwarts and showing me around."

Draco took the gift and unwrapped it; with a small clink, an orb the size of his fist fell out, and rolled a few inches along the scrubby table.

"What is it?" he asked her curiously, picking it up and surveying it.

"It's a Future-Seeker," she told him, taking the orb from his hands. "It turns red when you have a test coming up, blue when a Quidditch Game is nearing, green when there is trouble ahead, and orange when there is peril. It's similar to a Muggle jewellery called 'mood rings,' though I think this is much more direct for your future. I think there were a few more different future colours, but I'll get them down for you later."

"Wow!" Draco said, grabbing the orb from her hands again and turning it in his hand; it glowed blue, and vibrated slightly. "Brilliant!"

"I knew you would like it, you seem like the type of person who is interested in that stuff," she said, smiling at him and taking another sip of butterbeer; Draco's cup lay aside, untouched and forgotten.

"Yea, I guess you're right!" he told her, but felt a pang of guilt; he hadn't bought anything for Beaux, and knew at once that, from the look in her eyes, she didn't care much.

"Would you like to get going? I think we're supposed to be at Hogwarts by five," Beaux said uncertainly, checking a small silver bracelet-watch on her hand.

"Sure, here," he said, and pocketed the Future-Seeker. He took some of her bags again, though not complaining about the weight. He opened the door for her, and they walked out into the snow, shivering slightly against the cold.

"It's so beautiful," she said as they walked along, and Draco thought she must mean the snow. He looked at her, the snow falling into her hair like small glittering jewels.

"You're very beautiful," he said quietly, and she looked at him for a moment, then blushed a deep pink.

"Thank you, Draco," she said, sounding quite embarrassed at the compliment. She smiled at him as they sat on a bench, which had been bewitched to repel all the snow.

"You've made my stay at Hogwarts really welcoming, you know," she told him, looking at him through her bright green eyes, snow glistening on her lashes.

"No problem," he said, and they looked away from each other. Beaux sighed heavily out of exhaustion, and Draco could wait no longer; he wanted to kiss her, and leaned in to kiss her cheek. But at that moment, she turned, and their lips met. They were both surprised, Beaux at being kissed, and Draco at her turning, but neither resisted. They sat there on the bench, snow falling around them, Beaux's lips warm on Draco's. She put a gloved hand up to his face, and when they finally pulled away, she smiled at him. Draco looked back, the snow falling in his eyes. It was now or never. He gathered her hands in his, and held them softly.

"Beaux," he said, and she looked at him still, "I...I love you."

A single tear ran down Beaux's face; not out of sadness, but out of happiness; she had been waiting for those words for a long time.

"I love you too, Draco," she whispered softly, and she pulled him back into another kiss, her hands wrapped around his neck. It was, indeed in both of their views, the best Christmas present anyone could ever want.

* * *

It was the Christmas day, and Harry saw Draco walking in with Beaux by his side; he felt a twinge of jealousy; he and Cho had broken up a month ago that day because she felt they had "grown apart." Ron, who had been playing Harry in a chess match, noticed him staring unblinkingly at Beaux, turned to him.

"Mate, why don't you just go over there and ask her to Christmas dinner tonight? I'm sure she would tell off Malfoy for arguing with you," he said to him, looking over as Beaux, whose hair was braided and pulled into two buns, was obviously laughing at something Malfoy had just said.

"I dunno, Ron," Harry said uncertainly. "Do you think Malfoy and her are... you know?"

"Nah, can't be," he said through a mouthful of treacle tart. "I mean, Malfoy and Beaux? Talk about a weird match."

"Yea, I guess you're right," Harry said, nodding in a half confident way. He was going to gather up his courage and ask Beaux after breakfast.

"Good," Ron said, his King knocking over Harry's bishop. "Now we both win."

A short while later, Harry saw Beaux leaving, though Draco stayed behind. He whispered to Ron "I'm going," and walked out of the Great Hall after Beaux. He called out to her along the corridor, and she turned, startled at being called.

"Oh, hullo Harry," she said brightly, smiling a gorgeous smile. Harry thought it should be made illegal to smile so often.

"I wanted to know, if you, er...wanted to meet me for Christmas Dinner," he mumbled to her, taking a step closer to her. She stood where she was, though her smile faded a bit.

"Oh, um, I would love to..." she started, and Harry seized his chance; now that he had an answer, he pulled her hands into his and kissed her, their lips locking together. Beaux, however, shoved him back, a bit more forcefully than thought.

"What?" Harry asked, surprised. He thought he had done the right thing; Beaux had been so sweet to him the past months, and he was just returning the favor in a different way.

"You...you didn't let me finish," she said, a bit loud and harsh. "I was going to say 'I'd love to, but I'm currently courting Draco."

Harry felt as though his heart had plummeted down through his body and into the stone floor; he should've known that Draco would make a move; he had always seemed so smitten around her.

"Oh," Harry said, feeling quite filled with embarrassment and stupidity. "I'm sorry...I didn't..."

"There was no way you could've known, Harry," she told him, her eyes misty with tears. "Draco and I have tried to keep it quiet."

"But why?" he asked angrily, more to himself than to Beaux.

"Well, this is why," she said, touching his arm gently. "I knew that some people would disagree about us

going together, but, Harry, Draco is so sweet and kind, if you just got to know him..."

"Beaux, it's not that simple!" he told her, turning from her, and she jumped at his tone of voice. "We've been enemies for seven years, I can't just erase that!"

"I know," she said to him softly, and he turned around; she was crying, and she looked at him, her eyes a deep green now from her tears. "I'm sorry I hurt you, Harry, and I know that it must be hard for you to understand, but..."

But what she was about to tell him, Harry never found out. At that precise moment, a loud, angry sneering voice called from behind him.

"What are you doing to her, Potter?" Malfoy shouted scathingly, running to Beaux's side.

"I was just talking to her, Malfoy," Harry said through gritted teeth, his fists in tight balls. "Last time I checked, talking to her wasn't illegal."

"I saw you kiss her, Potter!" Draco yelled at her, walking in front of Beaux and taking out his wand from inside his robes. "I saw you! You can't deny it!" Harry took out his wand as well; if they were going to battle over Beaux, then it was something worth fighting for. But before either could do so much as wave their wands, Beaux had stepped in between them, her own wand raised in the air.

"Enough!" she told them sternly, tears still falling silently down her cheeks. "I will not be duelled over like some trophy!"

"We weren't..." Draco started, but he looked into Beaux's eyes, and put his wand down. "I'm sorry, I didn't think...why the bloody hell was he kissing you?!" he asked her accusingly, turning on her and leaving Harry to glare at his back.

"I didn't ask, Draco, it was just a misunderstanding," she told him, a new wave of tears coming down.

"Please, don't fight over this, over me. I'm not worth it."

"You're worth everything to me, Beaux," Draco whispered to her, wiping away some of her tears gently with his hand. He turned on Harry, whose wand was still out and ready.

"C'mon, then," she said, before he could utter a word, and grabbed his arm gently. She looked at Harry, and shook her head, telling him with her eyes to put away his wand before anyone got hurt. He understood her that time, and followed what she told him.

"All right," Draco told her, still glaring at Harry, who was in some sort of shock and anger position; his mouth was opened in surprise, but his eyes were cold and full of loathing, and his fists were still tightly balled up. Over Draco's head on her tiptoes, Beaux caught Harry's eye, and mouthed "Thank you," to him.

"I'll see you later, Beaux," Harry said to her, nodding curtly. He turned and walked, rather fast, back to the Great Hall.

"Let's go, please," Beaux said to Draco again when they were alone, but he turned on her again.

"He kissed you, Beaux," he said to her, and she noticed tears in his eyes, though he still sounded angry, but hurt.

"I didn't kiss him back, Draco! I would never do that to you! I love you," she told him, pulling him in and kissing him. He didn't pull back; but he wondered whether she had wiped off the kiss from Potter.

After a few moments, she pulled back, looked at him, and hugged him. He wrapped his arms around her waist, and she rested her head on his shoulders. They stood there, alone, in the middle of the corridor for a while. Then Draco turned her around, so that she was facing him yet again. He took a breath.

"I know that you love me, and I love you, Beaux, and I know that I can trust you," he said, though with great effort, because he did not like the idea of her being so close to Harry now. "I just don't want to lose you. You're the only person who has truly ever cared for me, my parents included, and I don't want to lose what we have."

"Nor do I," she whispered, and hugged him again. "Let's just go back to the common room, it's surely empty. We can talk more there."

"I agree," he said to her, pulling up her chin with her finger and kissing her lightly on her red lips. "I can show you what I have gotten you for Christmas."

"Oh, Draco! I told you not to buy me anything!" Beaux said, sounding embarrassed. "I have you, that's the greatest gift I could ever want."

"That may be true, but you gave me something, and I must give you something in return, though I truly mean it from the bottom of my heart," he said to her, and she smiled. He smiled back, and they walked down the corridor together, ignoring Peeves the Poltergeist, who was singing a very inappropriate version of "Jingle Bells."

* * *

Harry slumped into a seat next to Ron in the Great Hall, his face very red, his hands shaking.

"Harry?" Ron said slowly. "Are you...?"

"No, I'm not okay, Ron!" he said through clenched teeth. "God, why did I kiss her?!" He slammed his fists down onto the table, upsetting Ron's chessboard.

"Take it easy, Harry!" Ron said, lowering his voice. "What do you mean, you kissed her? What's so bad about that?"

"Because," said Harry, shaking harder still, "Malfoy and Beaux are dating apparently, and they've been trying to keep it quiet. And I kissed her right in front of him; we almost duelled."

"Blimey," muttered Ron, "you're quite lucky there weren't any teachers around."

"I know," said Harry, breathing in deeply to calm his anger. "I dunno what made me do it. Kiss her, I mean. I just thought it was the right thing to do. But it wasn't. And now, she probably hates me."

"I'm sure she doesn't hate you, mate," Ron said, patting Harry cautiously on the back. "She was probably just surprised and confused that you kissed her, that's all. Just give her some time, and go apologize when her slime ball boyfriend isn't around."

"But she seems so happy around him, Ron," Harry mumbled, looking at his thumbs. "What could she see in him that she can't see in me?"

"Can't help you out there, I haven't a clue," Ron said, picking up a chicken leg from his plate. "Maybe she's smitten over him because he's nice to her, I dunno. She doesn't really seem the type to be in it for the money. You know how Malfoy is always boasting about how rich his family is all the time."

"Yeah, I know," Harry said calmly. "Some Christmas, heh?"

"Hey, now, c'mon, Harry!" said Ron, in a voice he clearly thought was a happy one. "It's Christmas! Enjoy it before Hermione comes back and nags us about N.E.W.Ts!"

Harry laughed at this, though half-heartedly. "Well, I guess I could apologize to Beaux tonight, but I don't have any idea how I'll go about doing that."

"Just say sorry, that's all you really can say," Ron mumbled, shoving a rice cake into his mouth.

"Guess you're right," Harry told him, breathing in again. He picked up his goblet, and said "cheers."

"Cheers, mate!" said Ron, and they laughed, drinking their Pumpkin Juice merrily.

* * *

"Oh, Draco!" Beaux squealed, letting the wrapping fall to the ground. Draco was sitting down in the

Slytherin Common Room, watching Beaux unwrap the first gift he had bought her. She had let her hair down, which had a wavy look to it. She pulled the gift out of the box, and out flowed a beautiful, glowing dress, the color of the sky. It was fringed with lace around the bodice and neckline, and the straps had been sewn with lace as well.

"Do you like it?" Draco asked her uncertainly, standing up and looking at her.

"It's gorgeous!" she said to him, turning the dress around in her hands. "Where did you buy this?"

"My mother made it," he told her, walking around and standing behind her. "I told her about us."

"You did?" Beaux looked at him, her smile fading a bit. "And your father?"

"Indeed," he said hesitantly. "I wrote to them two weeks ago, writing about you."

"But we didn't have a relationship!" she said, a bit surprised.

"Well, I told them how beautiful you were, and what an amazing person you are," he said to her, helping her fold the dress. "My mother, unlike my father, got the gist, and made you this dress for Christmas. She told me to tell you she says hello."

"And...what about your father?" she asked him, replacing the dress back inside the box. "Did he seem...happy?"

"Oh, er, yes," Draco told her, shuffling his feet. His father, Lucius, worked for the Ministry of Magic, and

had a short temper and a horrible outlook on Muggle-borns. "He seemed, in the letter they wrote to me, very pleased that I had found someone as 'wonderful' as I wrote."

Beaux blushed at this. "Draco, I'm not wonderful. There's nothing spectacular about me."

"But there is!" he said to her, taking her hands and sitting back down with her on the leather couch. "You're an amazing person, a shocking great Seeker, and a personality like no one I have ever met."

She blushed even more deeply at this. "Well, you aren't so bad yourself," she told him, smiling. She looked down at the box again, her hands shaking slightly. Draco noticed this.

"What's wrong, Beaux?" he asked her, taking her hand in his. She was icy cold, and this startled him.

"I was just thinking...about, well, you know, what happened," she told him, and it took him a moment to realize that she was talking about Harry. Her words came out a little slurred, as if she had a slight cold.

"Oh," he said, anger and sadness building up inside of him again. "Beaux, I told you that I can trust you, and I believe that you can. Be trusted, I mean."

"But I just feel guilty, like I hurt you so much," she said to him, and he looked at her face. Her eyes were starting to water, and a single tear fell onto her cheek. He turned her to face him.

"Beaux, I'll admit that you did hurt me, but now, that feeling's gone; I know you didn't mean the kiss; I just got upset when I saw Potter. I saw him move towards you, and I just felt so angry. It was nothing like I had felt before. Like I wanted to kill him, more than I usually do."

"Oh, Draco," she cried, bursting into tears and crying into Draco's shoulder. "I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you! I was surprised! I don't want to ever hurt you again! I love you! I'm so sorry!"

Draco felt the anger receding inside him. He hugged Beaux tightly, calming her by saying "I know, it's alright, you didn't mean it." They sat there for at least ten minutes, Beaux's cries becoming less. Some fifth years had come into the Common Room, but they didn't interrupt Draco; many students had respect towards him and Beaux. After a while, Mandy pulled away from him, and wiped her face with her hands. She looked straight into his eyes, now all red and bloodshot from crying.

"Draco," she said, "I love you, so much. Sometimes, I don't think that I deserve you, that there could be someone else better than me..."

"But there will never be anyone as good as you!" Draco said to her, playing with her hair. "Never. That's why," he said, reaching inside his pocket, "I have another gift for you."

She looked at him curiously. "What kind of gift?" she asked him.

"It's rather small, but I think you'll like it," he said to her, pulling out a small black box, a minute silver rose on the top. He looked at her, knowing exactly what to do. She was smiling, still unaware of what he was about to do. "Beaux, I want you to have this."

She took the box from him slowly, and lifted the lid of the box. She gasped, and looked up at him. Inside, surrounded by velvet, was a single ring, three small diamonds glittering beautifully up at her.

"Do you know what it is?" Draco asked her, moving close towards Beaux. Her hand was shaking, and he took it in his own yet again.

"A...a promise ring," she whispered, taking it out of the box carefully and gently.

"May I?" Draco asked her, gesturing to let him put the ring on her finger. She nodded silently. As he did this, he explained, "The first diamond on the left is for the past we've had together, the middle, for the present, and the last," he said, looking into her eyes and moving still closer to her, "is for the future." And he kissed her, more passionately then he had ever done before. The ring had been his own idea; his mother knew of it, but had said nothing to his father. Beaux put her hand up to his face, the ring cold on his skin. When they pulled away, he said, "That is how much I care about you. I promise that I will always be there for you, Beaux, no matter what happens between us."

"Draco," she said to him, breathy and quiet like the first time he had met her. "How did you ever afford this?"

"I inherited it," he told her, "from my mother, Narcissa. It had been given to her by my father when they were our age, and she said that one day, maybe sometime near, I would find a young woman's finger to place that ring on."

"It's...it's...Draco, I feel uncomfortable wearing it," she told him, looking at her hand and moving the ring around her finger. "I can't accept it."

"But you can accept it, Beaux," he told her, taking her hand and readjusting the ring for her. "You're the one I love, and that will never change."

"I hope it never does," she said, hugging him. He pulled her back for a moment, and said "My parents will want to meet you in the near future, I suppose. As in very soon."

"I have no problem with that, Draco, as long as you are ready, too," she said to him, smiling. His heart melted.

"No problem at all," he said, smiling back at her. "I have a question, though."

"Yes?" she asked him curiously.

"Will you wear that dress tonight at Christmas dinner?" he asked her, because it was the first time he had mentioned it at all.

"Of course," she said, picking up the box and opening it yet again to look at the dress. "Tell your mother that she is an excellent seamstress."

"I will, don't worry," he said, smiling even wider.

"Do you think they'll...like me?" she asked him, her smile wavering.

"If they don't like you, then there must be something wrong with the both of them," he told you. "You haven't a single flaw in you."

"Actually," she said, putting the box down. "There is one flaw."

"What is that?" Draco asked her, surprised.

"My parents," she told him quietly fumbling with the arm of her robes.

"What about them?" he asked, growing curious.

"Do you remember, a few weeks ago, that I told you I lived with my grandparents?" she asked him, saying it very fast.

"Yes," he said immediately, though hardly remembering she had mentioned it at all.

"Did you ever wonder why I lived with them?"

"No, now that you say it, why?"

"My parents," she said, so quiet that Draco had to lean in to hear her, "were murdered by Voldemort seventeen years ago."

Draco felt his stomach drop. He had no idea that her parents had been murdered. To make matters worse, his father had once been a known death-eater, followers of the infamous Lord Voldemort. Albus Dumbledore and over one hundred Aurors had destroyed the Dark Lord the previous year.

"Beaux," he said, his voice choky, "why didn't you tell me this sooner?"

"Because I didn't know how you would handle it," she told him, not looking him in the eyes. "Not a lot of people respond to Voldemort's name very well, and I didn't know how to come about telling you."

"I'm so sorry, I didn't know," he told her, putting his arm around her shoulders.

"I'm fine, now," she said, laying her head on his shoulder. "I was just a baby when they were killed; no more than a couple of months. The only thing that was found after the murder was this," she told him, holding up her snake backpack, which had been lying on the floor next to her feet. "It was my mother's. It had been hers when she was young." She turned it onto it's top, and on the bottom, barely recognizable from age, were the initials, F. M.

"What was your mother's name?" Draco asked her hesitantly; he didn't know how emotional she was on the subject.

"Fey," she told him. "Short for Faythe. My father had once called her that, at least, that's what I thought."

Draco thought about something. It was said that Voldemort had only killed Muggle-borns and half bloods. He had never heard of the Dark Lord killing two purebloods. He told Beaux this.

"It didn't matter to him!" she told him, anger in her voice. She wasn't angry with Draco; she was angry with Voldemort. "He knew my parents, personally. They had once been friends. But that was before he had turned from Tom Riddle, his original name, to Lord Voldemort."

"Oh my God," Draco breathed, and he realized that his hands were in tight fists. It was almost like he could feel Beaux's pain and anger.

"But," she said, "I just wanted to tell you that. I don't know if your parents would want to meet them, having it be they never will. Not in this lifetime, anyway."

"I'll write to them, don't worry," Draco reassured her. "Everything will be fine."

"Good," she said, looking back down at the ring. "And tell your mother I said thank you for the ring. It's very beautiful."

"I shall," he said to her, picking up the box holding the dress. He figured that they were done on the subject of her parents. "So, erm, dinner starts at six; would you like me to wait for you?"

"That would be nice," she said, taking out the dress again and holding it up to herself and smiling. "I can't wait."

Draco smiled. After hearing about Beaux's parents, and seeing her with the dress, so happy and content, he knew that he would never love anybody as much as her.

* * *

...TBC...


	2. What the BLOODY HELL is happening?

Draco stood waiting next to the banister that led to the girl's dormitory, becoming a little anxious. He checked his watch; five minutes to six. He had dressed early, and wore a new set of black dress robes, his Head Boy badge glittering in the dim light. The common room had emptied out minutes ago; only Draco was left to wait for Beaux. As he turned away from the banister, he heard a door somewhere above him creak open slowly, and distinctly heard the sound of heels on the stone floor.

"Draco," he heard Beaux say quietly, and he turned. Who he saw before him looked nothing like the Beaux he had seen only hours before. Her hair had been pulled into small tight curls, pushed up onto her head and surrounded by small blue flowers that matched her dress. She wore makeup, though Draco hardly thought she needed it. She had put on a small silver chain, complete with a miniature uncoiling snake. But what amazed the blonde seventh year wasn't any of that; it was how perfect and beautiful the dress his mother had made for her looked. It fitted wonderfully, and when she descended the stairs, the small trail flowed behind her, moving silently. She laid her hand upon the banister, and Draco saw that she wore the Promise Ring, which winked at him when brought into light. Beaux laughed softly, and Draco realized that he had his mouth hanging wide open, and shut it quickly.

"You...er...look...ah...you're perfect," he told her, snaking his hand into hers. She felt warm, not icy like the last time he had touched her.

"Thank you, Draco. You look handsome," she told him, and he saw that small sparkles were glittering around her eyes.

"Shall we head down?" he asked her, gesturing towards the common room door.

"Sure, I would love to," Beaux said with a little smile, and they walked out, arm in arm, towards the Great Hall.

When they arrived, Draco held the door for Beaux, and she did a small curtsy, her dress flowing out beside her as she dipped and came back up. They walked into the Great Hall, and were amazed that only two tables were left, both brought into the middle of the room. A dozen Evergreen trees sparkled at every angle, and snow fell from the bewitched ceiling, evaporating inches from their heads. Pixies and faeries flew amongst them, and the school ghosts sang merrily, flowing in and out of the walls. Draco walked with Beaux to one of the tables, which was occupied by Professors Snape and McGonagall, two Hufflepuff first years, and Hagrid, the groundskeeper at Hogwarts. At the other table, Draco spotted Potter, Weasley, Granger, and another girl he didn't recognise, all of who were careful not to make eye contact with him; Headmaster Albus Dumbledore sat alongside Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, and Madame Hooch, the flying instructor. Draco pulled out a seat for Beaux, and she sat gracefully into her chair. There was no food on the table, only shining golden plates and goblets. Dumbledore stood, and the already quiet chatter died down completely.

"I hope that you have all had a pleasant Christmas," he began, "and that only the best will be served to you tonight. As for entertainment, I have invited to the Christmas feast the Weird Sisters, whom all of the students who attended the Yule Ball three years ago may remember." And at this, three girls walked in, all extremely hairy, the color of their skin a deep sickly yellow. They carried what looked to Draco like guitars, and a few of the students applauded as they started to play a fast, upbeat tune.

"And now, let the feast begin!" Dumbledore cried happily, and at that, each empty plate filled with dinner; Beaux stared at all the turkey, chicken, fruits, vegetables, and desserts that had appeared before her. She didn't know where to begin. Draco looked at her, and asked, "Do you need help deciding?"

Beaux just laughed. "No, I just don't know where to begin!" She chose a little bit of everything, except dessert. Draco chose the same as her, but not before hearing a hearty laugh from the other table. He turned around; the unfamiliar girl who was sitting next to Potter was laughing through a mouthful of turkey, her shoulders shaking up and down. She had waist-length blonde hair pulled back into a long braid, and had light tan skin. She wore a dress that had no straps, and it was the deepest shade of purple. Harry caught Draco's eye, and sniggered, his jet-black hair a mess as usual. Draco turned back, curious at who that girl could be. Beaux seemed to be reading his mind.

"That's Kara Beaumont," she told him, dabbing the corners of her mouth lightly with her napkin. "She's in seventh year, I think, and is quite fond of Harry. At least, that's what Hermione told me a few days ago."

"Oh, yeah, I think I know who she is," Draco said, though not very certain he had ever even heard the name. The girl indeed had an interest in Potter, and he felt a twinge of jealousy, though he didn't know why. Perhaps it was because Potter had managed to get a date so quickly, that Draco had not succeeded in making his Christmas horrible.

After an hour or so, the Weird Sisters took a break, applauded once again by the students, and most of all Hagrid, who was booming, "Play summat more good music, eh? Yer extraordinary! Drinks all around!" Beaux looked at Draco, who had not touched his food, and was staring off into the distance.

"Draco? Why aren't you eating anything? You're very quiet, are you feeling okay?"

"What? Oh, I'm fine, Beaux, I was just thinking," he told her, looking at her and smiling.

"About what?" she asked him, setting down a fudge cake.

"Just...I don't know what to do after Hogwarts," he told her, though that wasn't what he was thinking about at all. He didn't like lying to Beaux; and he felt a twinge of guilt as she poured over him.

"Oh, Draco! You're excellent at flying; that win against Gryffindor was amazing, just the way you flew was so elegant! You should try for a career in Quidditch, I bet you would get on an international team in a heartbeat!" She smiled, and took his hand in hers, the ring cold on his hand. He jumped, and she pulled back.

"Are you sure that's all that's bothering you?" she asked him, caressing his hand with her fingers. Draco took in a deep breath; he would have to tell her the truth.

"I just...I'm jealous of Potter, sitting over there with his girl friend, after what happened today."

"Why are you jealous?" Beaux asked him, and this wasn't what he had expected. She knew he had been jealous, but she wanted to hear what he had to say.

"I don't really know why, I just am," he said, a bit more irritated then he felt, and Beaux looked away from him.

"I'm sorry I asked, it's none of my business," she said, resting her hands to herself on the table. "It's your life."

"No, I mean, I feel jealous, but..." Draco started, but at that moment, Kara walked up to their table, and he looked around, Beaux as well.

"Excuse me, but are you finished with this treacle pudding? We ran out," she told Beaux, and she looked at Draco, smiling a wide smile. He didn't smile back.

"Are you done with it, Draco?" Beaux asked him, and he noticed that she didn't look him in the eye.

"I'm done, yeah, I guess," he said carelessly, and pushed the pudding over to Kara, who hesitated.

"Wait, aren't you the famous little couple Draco and Beaux?" she asked them, kneeling down on the bench beside Beaux, who moved a little ways from her.

"I heard so much about you in Transfiguration."

"Er...yea, sure," Beaux said, pushing her plate away. Draco nodded in agreement, and Kara actually squealed.

"Aw! Really? You two make the best couple!" she said to them, getting up and almost knocking over a goblet of butterbeer.

"Thanks," Draco said, and moved closer to Beaux, who shivered as he put his arm around her waist.

"Well, have a good Christmas!" Kara said to them, taking the pudding and going to rejoin Potter, who put his arm around her shoulders. Now it was Draco's turn to be curious. Beaux was staring out the high window, the snow falling fast and hard. He pulled her closer to him, and he thought he noticed her hesitate for a moment.

"Are you mad at me, Beaux?" he asked her, and she shivered again. "I'm just...just a little cold, that's all," she told him, moving away from him a little bit.

"Here, take this," Draco told her, and he removed his cloak and put it over her shoulders.

"Thank you," she whispered, shivering again. He didn't know why he did it, but before Draco knew what was happening, the Weird Sisters were playing a slow, mellow tune, and he was taking Beaux's hand and walking toward the front of the stage, where a few couples were dancing. Beaux, who seemed to have expected this, put her hands around his shoulders, he put his hands around her waist, and they rotated slowly on the spot, Beaux smiling and seeming to forget about being jealous that Draco was eyeing Kara. They danced in silence for a while, and then Kara and Potter joined them, Potter looking rather pleased with himself. Draco, who had made a promise to Beaux not to make rude comments to Potter in front of her, looked away from him. However, he could feel Kara's eyes staring into him, and tried to revolve himself and Beaux away from her.

"You know what, Beaux?" Draco said after a while, and she looked up at him, because he had said it rather harshly.

"What?" she said, apparently surprised by his attitude.

"I love you," he told her, and her heart melted into a puddle, dripping onto the floor.

"Bet you didn't know that was what I was going to say, did you?" he asked her, as he saw her expression relieve into a smile.

"No, I didn't," she said to him, laughing. Draco pulled her closer to himself, kissed her twice on the lips. He didn't care about Potter anymore. All he cared about was Beaux as they danced; they danced even as the music stopped, even as everyone left for bed, even as Potter and Kara made their ways out of the Great Hall hand in hand. They simply rotated on the spot, embraced in each other's arms, Beaux's head resting on Draco's chest, his cloak still around her shoulders. It was a long time before they pulled away from each other. Beaux looked up at Draco, and he was surprised to see that her bright green eyes were twinkling with tears.

"What? What is it, Beaux?" he asked her, holding her out to look at her. Her makeup had been slightly smeared, and the glitter had gone from her face, but she still looked as lovely as ever to him.

"It's just that...Draco, you're my first true love, and..." She couldn't say it. It would sound so meaningless to Draco, so pointless. But, like that time she had done it before the Hogsmeade trip, he lifted her head up gently with his hand, and stared deeply into her eyes.

"Tell me," he whispered, putting a few flyaway hairs away from her face and behind her ears. Beaux took in a deep breath.

"Draco, I love you, and I just don't want anything to happen to that, I want to stay standing here forever, with you, like our love is frozen in time. I don't want you to be with anyone else, because I just won't be able to stand it. I know that you love me as much as you say, and I just want our love to be pure, sweet and simple. I don't want it to be full of obstacles. I just want to stay here forever," she said, and she couldn't help but cry. Her shoulders shook hard, and Draco could feel his eyes watering.

"Beaux, I feel the same exact way about you," he told her, and he realized that he was crying, as well. "Ever since you came here, I've been in love with you, and I don't ever want that to end. You may not be my first love, but you will always be the one I truly loved, and I hope that will always stay the same."

Beaux looked up at him, her eyes shining like large orbs. "Can we go back to the common room, Draco? I think it would be a better place to talk." She had a funny smile on her face, and Draco understood what she meant by 'talk.'

"Sure," he said to her, smiling, and they walked out of the Great Hall hand in hand, Beaux still covered by Draco's cloak.

* * *

"Are you sure this is what you want to do?" Beaux asked Draco, who had taken off the cloak and was lying on her dormitory bed. Her hair had come undone, resting in curls around her, and she was smiling at Draco, who had taken off his shirt. She had been surprised, though she didn't know why. Draco was muscular, his pale arms flexing and his chest looking more like it should be in a weight-lifting contest. He didn't seem it, but she knew he was quite strong. Maybe it was the Hogwarts robes that made him seem smaller.

"Yes, because you are the one I want to do this with," he told her, sitting down next to her. He stroked her hair, and she touched his arm softly. She shuddered, and he took her arms and looked at her.

"This is my first time," she told him, looking at him deeply.

"As is mine," he whispered into her ear. Without giving a notice, he took her arms, flung them around his neck, and kissed her, so passionately that she was utterly surprised. His chest was warm against her dress, and she smiled to herself. It truly was the best feeling in the world when you were doing it with someone you loved.

* * *

Her dress lay strewn over an empty chair, his shoes thrown onto the other side of the room. Draco lays next to Beaux in the single bed, the curtains pulled tightly around the outer sides. He didn't sleep, and couldn't help but wonder, as Beaux lay there sleeping, that that had been her first time.

"She looks so peaceful when she sleeps," he said to himself. "Like she hasn't a care in the world."

At this, Beaux's eyes fluttered open, and she turned in the bed onto her other side, the blankets brought up to her neck. She sighed, and smiled at him.

"'Morning," he said to her, kissing her on the cheek.

"'Morning," she said softly, readjusting the blankets.

"What do you want to do today? Go on the grounds? Maybe Dumbledore will let us go to Hogsmeade," he told her, but she touched his lips with her finger.

"I don't want to do anything right now but be with you," she told him, kissing his neck gently. He shuddered, and gathered up some of the blankets that had fallen to the floor.

"Shall we keep this secret, then?" he asked her, playing with her hair as she laid her head on his bare chest.

"I think that would be best, because we are only seventeen, you know," she told him, smiling mischievously and closing her eyes again.

"Alright," he told her, laying his head back on the pillow. His hair was messed, covering his face, but he didn't care; he'd just spent the night with the most wonderful girl he could ever meet.

* * *

_She was lying on the floor, rigid as a board. She couldn't move a single muscle in her body. She tried to block out the screaming, tried to cover her eyes from the horrible sight that was shown before her. A tall, evil figure was standing above a man and a woman, both in their early 20s, hovering under the shadow of the man standing before them. The man was handsome, with dark hair fanned back and tousled. His eyes shone a bright green and full of fear. The woman had long brown hair, and a pale white complexion. Again the young girl tried to cry out, tried to do anything, but it was too late. The shadow figure whispered the deadly words, and no sooner did the screaming from the two people stop that a green flash of light seared through the two bodies, and then they were lifeless, not in any more pain. The figure turned towards the girl, not more than four or five, and walked slowly towards her. She opened her mouth again to scream, and this time, it worked. She screamed so loud, but the figure just kept moving towards her. Off in the distance, she could hear her name being called. "Beaux! Beaux! Beaux!"_

"Beaux! Wake up! Wake up!"

She opened her eyes, and looked to her right. There was Draco, his eyes full of worry and concern.

"Wha...what happened?" she asked him, her voice trembling.

"You were screaming, so loud, and you were shaking, too,"he told her, bringing her closer to himself. He gasped; she was shaking violently, but she was as hot as fire. He looked down at her, then at the door, still hoping that no one had heard her.

"Tell me what happened, Beaux. What did you see?" he asked her, taking one of her hands and holding it to his chest. He had to calm her down; her breathing was in short breaths, and she wasn't looking directly at him.

"I...I can't tel...tell you Draco," she told him between breaths. She felt her face; it was covered in cold sweat.

"Yes you can, you can tell me anything," he told her quietly, sitting up a little bit.

"NO, I CAN'T!" she screamed at him, jumping up and bringing the blankets with her so quickly that Draco fell out of the bed. He scrambled up to get his pants, so that he wasn't entirely naked in front of Beaux.

"Why?" he asked her, his patience seeping away.

"Because, I just...I can't," Beaux said to him, and at this, she started to cry, and she fell slowly to the floor, the blankets falling around her. She covered her face with her hands, and heard Draco make his way over to her and kneel down in front of her. He took her hands away from her face, and she sniffed.

"Beaux, I love you more than anything, but if you can't trust me to not believe what you say..." he trailed off, looking at her with his deep grey eyes.

She looked at him; it was time to tell him the truth.

"Remem...remember when you said that I was perfect, Draco?" she told him, looking at his chest; she couldn't bring herself to look at his face.

"Yes, and you are perfect, don't tell me that you aren't," he said to her, taking her chin in his hands and bringing her face up to his.

"I'm not, though. I'm not perfect" Beaux told him, looking anywhere but his face. "Do you also remember that I told you about my parents, and how they died?"

"Of course," he said, with a bit uncertainty about where she was going with this.

"Well, I...I didn't tell you the whole truth. The real truth."

"What do you mean?" he asked her; he was becoming confused, and a little angry.

"Have you never heard my last name before?" she asked him.

"No, Chasity isn't that big of a name, Beaux," he said.

"I mean my real last name. My real last name is...Riddle," she whispered, and she looked down and turned away from Draco.

"Riddle? Where have I heard that? ..." Draco began, but she turned around and went down his throat.

"RIDDLE! RIDDLE, DRACO! TOM RIDDLE! THE DARK LORD! VOLDEMORT!" she screamed, panting. Draco moved back from he believe what he'd just heard?

"But how can that be, Beaux?" he asked her, puzzled and confused. Beaux, this sweet young beautiful woman he loved, related to the Dark Lord?

"Because..." she mumbled something Draco couldn't understand.

"What?"

She mumbled again, a little louder, and didn't look him in the eyes.

"Beaux, just say it!" he shouted, becoming agitated.

She looked up at him. "He was my uncle."

It took a moment for this to register in Draco's mind. But after he got over this, anger took over.

"Why didn't you tell me, Beaux? I thought I said I could trust you!" he shouted again, standing up and pounding over to the window. The anger he had unfortunately inherited from his father was raging out of him.

"I was scared!" she cried, standing up as well but remaining where she was.

"I didn't know what to do or who to tell! I was five years old, Draco! I didn't tell a single soul what I had seen! They questioned me over and over again, and I lied, because you want to know what The Dark Lord said to me? He said that if I ever spoke a word of what happened, of what I really saw, that he would cause me unspeakable pain! What would you have done? I asked Dumbledore if I could change my name because of it, and he understood! I did what I thought was best, and I told you, and you took it the wrong way!"

Draco heaved his shoulders up and down in a huge sigh. He drooped his head, not responding to Beaux. "Draco? Please, answer me!" she cried, walking a little towards him.

"Don't!" he shouted, and she stopped so abruptly it was as though a freezing charm had been placed on her. "Don't come near me, I..." he turned around, anger swelling up inside him like a large balloon. "You're his blood... You have evil in you! How could you keep this from me?"

She turned from him, unaware of the tears now streaming freely down her face.

"I'm sorry, Draco," she whispered, "but I'm nothing, nothing like my Uncle. He's dead now, and if you choose not to believe that I'm not like him, that's your opinion." She turned to face him again; the sheets draped around her like a dress. "But if you can't look me in the eyes and tell me that you don't see it, then maybe we weren't meant to be here together. Maybe last night was...was a mistake."

Draco walked towards her, looking right into her eyes. Her green eyes, now red and smeared with makeup, still shone the brightest green in the world. His heart, still full of hatred towards The Dark Lord, and how Beaux could be related to him, faltered for a moment.

"I... I don't know what to do right now, Beaux," he said, and it was the first time that he felt an empty pit in his stomach. "I need to think about this." She dropped her head down.

"I understand," she said softly, but Draco could see her tears falling to the floor and wetting the sheets. He looked at her for a moment more, and talked out of the room, not looking back as he closed the door with a loud click. She turned around, staring at the door, and collapsed, breaking down completely. She had to come to with reality; her love was gone, and all that was left was a bottomless pit of sadness.

* * *

It had been a week since everything had happened; fortunately, word hadn't gotten out that Draco and Beaux had broken up, and it seemed to be hitting harder on Draco than on Beaux. He sat outside the grounds of Hogwarts, watching the glittering surface of the blue lake shimmer in the sunlight. He put his knees up to his chest, and folded his hands around them. He knew that Beaux would never be like the Dark Lord, but to keep something like this from him, he would never understand... He felt so many emotions inside his head; anger, sadness, confusion, wonderment, and then anger again...he closed his eyes, trying to push the swirling thoughts out of his mind. It wasn't until he heard the soft flump of someone sitting down next to him on the grass that he opened his eyes again.

"Hey, Draco," Kara said, smiling at him with her deep blue eyes. He tried to force a smile, but it just wouldn't come, and he turned away from her, thinking it should be made illegal for someone to smile so much when it wasn't the right time.

"Er...are you okay?" she asked, moving a little closer to him. Draco didn't like this, and inched away from her.

"Kara, I don't really want to talk about it now, it's not a good time," he told her, staring out at the lake.

"Oh, I understand," she told him, twiddling her thumbs carelessly. "It's just that, well, Beaux has seemed upset all this past week, and I wanted to know if you...well, knew anything."

He turned on her, his face burning with anger. "Why don't you go ask her yourself?" he hissed, seethingly, his grey eyes wide.

Kara seemed totally oblivious to how he felt. "I already tried, but she won't tell me anything. She's a mess, Draco, haven't you seen her?"

Draco felt some of the anger inside him recede, and instead, fill with sadness and confusion. He hadn't seen Beaux all week, even the previous day, when classes had restarted after holiday break. He hadn't seen her at all in the Great Hall or common room: it was like she was never there to begin with. He shook his head, and stood up.

"I've got to go...class," he muttered to her, and he started to walk away, when she caught his attention.

"It's about you and her, isn't it?" she cried after him, and he stopped dead in his tracks, turning slowly to face her. He felt his anger coming again, and tried to control it, but it was too hard. He ran to Kara, and whispered deadly into her ear.

"If you utter so much as a word of this to anyone...well, let's just say I know more hexes than you do words," he told her, and turned away, leaving Kara to stand dumbfounded at what she had just heard. She watched after him, his blonde hair bright in the sunlight.

So that was it, she told herself, and as soon as she had seen Draco enter the doors to Hogwarts, she ran inside too, heading straight for the Library.

* * *

She found Beaux resting her head on top of _Fantastic Career Advice _by Madam Pinx, Witch of the Year, 1705. Kara gently shook her shoulder, and she jolted awake, crying out softly.

"Wha...what?" she said dimly, looking around. When she saw Kara, she let out a sigh of great relief.

"I thought you were...never mind, what are you doing here Kara? I thought I told you not to come anymore. It's too risky, he'll find me."

Kara felt pity for Beaux. Her usually beautiful long brown hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail, which hadn't been combed in days. Her face was smeared with makeup, and her eyes had lost their gorgeous sparkle. Her robes had become stained in places, and her attractive pale skin was covered with specks of dirt, her nails bitten to the cuticle.

"He hasn't a clue where you are, Beaux, don't worry," she told her, sitting down across the other side of the table. She smiled, trying to make Beaux feel better, but she just sighed.

"I know I shouldn't be here," she said after a while, and Kara looked up.

"What do you mean?" she asked her, pulling her chair in towards the table so that she wouldn't have to talk so loud.

"I mean, let's face it," Beaux said, standing up and tripping over a plate of forgotten food Kara had brought to her two days before. "Draco is not in love with me anymore. I should just move on. But why is it so difficult?" she cried, slamming her hand against the wall and making a few spiders fall out of their cobwebs.

Kara stood up and walked over to her, putting a soothing hand on her shoulder. "Beaux, I know for a fact that it's not the easiest thing to go through...breaking up with the one right person, I mean. But there will be more, and someday, you'll find that special one, the one who you can spend the rest of your life with."

Beaux turned around to look at her, her fists still on the wall. This was when Kara noticed the ring; even though her hands were dirty, Beaux's ring shone as bright as new. This sparked her interest.

"Where did you get that?" she asked her, pointing at the ring on her left hand.

Beaux quickly dropped her hands to her robe pockets, hiding the ring from view. "It's just some silly gift someone gave me a long time ago, it doesn't mean anything..."

"Oh, I think it does!" Kara said, and grabbed Beaux's arm, yanking out her hand so that she could see the ring again. She gasped as she realized what it was.

"This...is that...a promise ring?" she said breathily, taking Beaux's hand and moving it around, so that the ring sparkled at every angle.

Beaux tried to yank her hand away from Kara, but she held a tight grip. She was forced to nod her head slowly.

"Did Draco give it to you?"

She nodded again, tears welling up in her eyes.

Kara gasped again. "Why are you still wearing it? Didn't you just listen to yourself? Ger rid of it!"

Beaux looked up at her, tears streaming down her face. She couldn't tell her the real truth; even though she thought she didn't love him anymore, she couldn't bring herself to throw away the ring Draco had given her.

"I still love him, Kara," she whispered softly, sniffling and pulling her arm again away from her friend. Kara's eyes opened wider, and her mouth dropped.

"But he doesn't love you!" she told her firmly, and Beaux looked up at her, her mouth hanging open. "He can't stand you anymore! He told me so at the edge of the lake today. He's over you, there's no more love, and I think it would be best for both of you if you just...moved on."

"Why were you talking to him?" Beaux asked her quietly, her voice hoarse.

"Well, he's not yours anymore," Kara explained. "He DOES have his own free will to talk to whoever he wants. He likes me; he confessed it only a few short minutes ago. I'm so sorry, Beaux," she said, with a hint that she didn't feel sorry at all, "but I like him too."

"Kara!" she said, surprised at how her friend was behaving. "How could you do that to me? I still love him..."

"Not anymore!" Kara cried, and at this, she pulled out her wand from inside her robes, pointing it at Beaux's heart. "Recedus loveonius!" Three small streams of bright yellow light flew right at Beaux's heart, and she gasped, startled and scared at the same time. She couldn't scream; couldn't move. The light decreased, and in its place, a small red sparkle no larger than a tack came floating out of Beaux, and Kara turned her wand on herself, so that the sparkle went into her heart.

Beaux gasped, not knowing what to do. The love she felt for Draco was suddenly...gone. She looked at Kara, hate in her eyes. "What did you _do_ to me?" she uttered deadly, trying to ball her hands into fists. But she didn't have enough strength to, and all they did was fold a little.

Kara laughed at this. She told her, "Why, I believe I just took your love for Draco, and transferred it...into me." She smiled, and sat down, staring at Beaux.

This was too much for Seventh year; not knowing where to do or where she was going to go, she ran out of the library, her face in her hands.

Kara sat alone, smiling. She knew that Beaux still loved Draco; it was such pity that Draco didn't love her back. Her plan to flirt with Harry Potter had caught Draco's attention, and she smiled even wider at this. She found Beaux's state quite amusing, because now, she could have Draco all to herself, without that little Miss Perfect interfering with them. She walked out of the library quietly, humming to herself.

* * *

Beaux rushed in to the Slytherin Common Room, moving blindly through the tears that covered her eyes. Thinking she was going up the right stairs, she headed to the girl's dormitory. It wasn't until she bumped into someone and heard a soft "Oof" from them that she realized she had ended up exactly where she didn't want to be. She wiped her eyes, stepped back, and gasped.

"Beaux!" Draco cried, his voice cracking. He was surprised to see her, and at the same time, he felt anger building up inside of him again. He looked at her, her face dirty, hair a mess, but stared only at her eyes, which, to Draco's amazement, had turned a dark brown. "What...what happened to you?" he asked her, trying to keep his voice down.

Beaux turned away from him, but she couldn't move anymore. She sat down on the cold stone floor, her head hanging low. She heard him sit next to her, and felt his eyes burning into her, but she just sat there, trying very intently to stare at the floor and wish it to open up, so she could just fall, never ending.

"Beaux," Draco whispered, moving closer to her. His anger was gone, and what was left in its place was; love, sadness, and so many upsetting emotions that he felt his eyes well with tears. He made to move some of the loose hairs out of her face, but she jumped at his touch, and closed her eyes. He pulled his hand back, but didn't take his gaze off of her. "Please," he said to her, "Beaux, please...I need to know the whole truth; is there anything else you want to tell me? Anything?"

She looked over at him, her eyes suddenly turning back to green. However, the glow Draco had seen only a week ago had faded. "I...I can't tell you, Draco. There's nothing else."

Draco realized something at this; his feelings for Beaux were growing steadily back, and even though she looked a fright, he thought she was the most beautiful human he had ever seen. He took her hand in his, and lifted her chin gently. Her lip trembled, but she didn't resist.

"I still...I think...I still love you, Beaux," he told her, and not giving her any time to answer, he kissed her softly on her lips, putting his hand behind her neck. But at this, she pulled away, staring at him oddly.

"I don't," she said, sounding pretty surprised at what she had said. "I don't love you anymore. Kara does. You love her too, so go and have a wonderful life together!" she gathered up enough strength to stand, and walked down the stairs quickly, leaving Draco to stare after her in amazement. Him? Love Kara Beaumont? He shook his head and stood up, about to go after Beaux, but let her go. Still, her couldn't let her go forever. He darted after her, his heart growing with love when he saw her.

He called out to her, but she just kept walking, her hair becoming undone from its ponytail and flowing out behind her. He sprinted up next to her, then in front of her, and she stopped, not looking at him.

"Please get out of my way, Draco," she whispered, staring hard her shoes.

"What's the matter, Beaux? You're acting very...odd," he explained, bending down so that he was in her line of vision. However, she seemed very determined not to look at the blonde seventh year, and turned around.

Draco stood back up. "I don't get it," he told Beaux's back. "I thought you still loved me enough..." but he never got the chance to finish. She turned on him, her long hair whipping him in his face gently.

"DRACO, I DON'T LOVE YOU ANYMORE! KARA DOES! SHE'S WAITING FOR YOU IN THE GREAT HALL!" Beaux screamed at him, and with a sharp turn, she ran for the girl's bathroom.

"Waiting for me in the Great Hall?" Draco muttered to himself, looking around as if the answer was right in front of him. He wanted to go after Beaux, but knew he had to leave her alone. He wasn't sure what was going on; it sounded like Kara had planned something. Whatever it was, he was going to find out. Walking, almost running, Draco turned the corridor and made his way toward the Great Hall.

Kara sat at the Gryffindor table, eating her turkey sandwich by herself. Since word had gotten out that she had used Harry, which hadn't taken a very long time, she had made enemies, from Slytherins to the very people she sat with in the common room every night. She was just finishing up her cherry punch when she saw a shadow hover above her, and looked up to see who it was. She smiled when she saw the sneering face of Draco Malfoy, his face bright pink and his fists shaking with anger.

_Aw, he's so cute when he's mad_, she thought to herself, twisting around in her seat to get a better look at the seventh year.

Can I help you Draco?"

"Actually," he said slowly, making sure she could hear him only in a whisper, "there is. Can you come outside with me?"

Her smile grew wider. "Sure," she told him, and gathered up her books for next class before following Malfoy out of the Great Hall and onto Hogwart's rolling green grounds. She gathered speed so that they were walking at the same pace, and looked over at him. He was staring straight forward, a vein going above his eye. She winced, and looked away. Seeing him this mad, she knew he must've known something had happened between her and Beaux. Draco led her underneath the shadows of a small tree near the edge of the lake. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her gently to the ground, her robes fluttering out beneath her.

Draco looked into her eyes, which were staring intently back at him; he looked away, because oddly enough he reminded her of Beaux. "What did you do to Beaux?" he asked her quietly, never taking his eyes off the mouldy bark of the tree.

"Nothing, why? Does she seem upset?" she asked him, inching her way closer to the boy in front of her.

"Upset doesn't begin to describe it, and I know you did something to her, because she mentioned you when I talked to her today," he told her, his voice cold.

"Me? Why would she mention..." Kara began, but Draco snapped his head up, looking directly into her eyes.

"DON'T TELL ME THAT YOU DIDN'T PUT A SPELL ON HER!" he yelled, so loudly that Kara sat straight up, her eyes wide with surprise.

"A spell? Draco, Beaux is my friend, why would I ever put a spell on her?" she said calmly, though her voice shook a little. "I know she hasn't been feeling too good lately, maybe she's imagining things."

Draco stood up, his tall figure looming over Kara's. "She's not 'imagining' anything, Kara. You did something to her, something that took her love away from her, away from me. Don't you understand? I'm in love with her, and I will always be in love with her."

"No," she said, standing up and coming within inches of Draco's face. "You won't."

"Don't be the one to tell me whom I will and won't love!" he told her, his hand gripping his wand inside his robes.

"Oh, come on, Draco!" she said, becoming agitated. "She doesn't love you anymore! Get it through your head! Haven't you felt the same feelings I've felt?" she told him, coming ever so closer to him.

"No, I can't say that I have," he told her, standing his ground and his hand gripping his wand more tightly.

"Well than maybe this will jolt your senses," she told him, and without hesitation, she pulled his collar towards her and kissed him, more passionately than she had ever kissed anyone. But before she could do what she really wanted to do to him, Kara felt a painful jab into her left side, and she screamed, backing away and looking at Draco. He had his wand pointed at her, his hand steady, and she opened up her robes, hoping the sight wouldn't be gruesome. She nearly fainted when she saw what he had done to her. Blue blisters had started to appear around her stomach, all the way up to her heart, multiplying by the hundreds. She looked back at Draco, an anger filling up her body.

"WHAT...DID...YOU...DO...TO...ME?" she screamed at him through gasps, because the pain was starting to make her nauseous.

"A simple lie spell," he smirked, stepping closer to her and wiping off his lips onto his other hand. "You really should pay more attention in Defence Against the Dark Arts."

Kara fell to the ground, grabbing her stomach in pain. She writhed, rolled around on the grass, and then stopped. Draco moved forward to her, and could hear a light panting. Pointing his wand directly at her chest again, he muttered, "locomotor mortis bodius," and instantly Kara's body gently floated upwards, and he took her and slumped her against the tree trunk. Her head lay on her slowly rising chest, and he cleared his throat before he began questioning her.

"What spell did you place on Beaux Riddle Chasity?"

In a monotone, Kara answered "A love reduction spell, 'Recedus loveonius.'"

"Why did you put the spell on her?" he asked, growing impatient each second; he didn't know where Beaux had gone, or what she may have done.

"Because I wanted you to have feelings for me, the way I have feelings for you," she answered, her head still lowered.

"What," he asked her angrily, "would ever give you the impression that I would love you over Beaux? Even with the charm, how would you get me to love you back, exactly?"

"I made a potion during Professor Snape's class, a love spell that I was going to slip into your drink at dinner without your noticing," she replied.

"What happened after you put the spell on Beaux?"

"She ran away, and I felt like I was floating on air, because now I have the love she had for you. She will never love you again like I love you, Draco Malfoy."

At this, she looked up, her eyes blank and staring.

Draco swallowed before he questioned her again. "How do I get her to love me again?"

"You can't make her love you against her own will, only with potion can you make that happen," she answered quietly.

"How do I get her to love me without doing that?"

"You have to show her how much you care for her, and if she doesn't return your love after that, then there is no point in trying; her mind will be made up forever after twelve o'clock midnight tonight."

"Why tonight?"

"Because that is when her day of birth is," Kara said, and Draco started to see a slight glint in her eyes, meaning the spell was starting to wear off. He didn't have much time.

"Where will she be?"

"Only you can know that answer; only you know where to find her and her equal other," she said, and her head drooped down; the spell had been completed.

He wondered what Kara had meant by 'equal other.'

"Am I too late?" he wondered to himself. "Has she already found somebody else?"

Knowing he did have much time left, he ran back to the castle, totally clueless to what Kara's last answer had been.

* * *

Beaux slumped down against a corridor wall in the dungeons, panting. She had practically run away from Draco, and she needed time to think. She sighed heavily, her breath visible in the air. She put her hand to her heart, and thought of Draco; nothing loving came to mind. All of the times they had been together; the first time they had talked; the trip to Hogsmeade; their first kiss; it only seemed like someone else's life. Which, Beaux reminded herself harshly, it already was. She pounded the floor angrily with her hands, and screamed aloud in a tidal wave of emotions. She was not prepared, however, for something to pound back. Something inside of her stomach kicked her painfully, and she gasped, forgetting for a moment where she was, or why she was there. Beaux looked down at her stomach, and felt it gently.

"What was that?" she thought to herself, examining her skin closely. Had that really just happened? Not waiting to think, she started to get up, but heard a voice call out her name.

"Beaux! Beaux! Are you down here? I need to talk to you, Beaux!" It was Draco; she got up quickly and turned to run down in the opposite direction, but she stopped. Running from him wouldn't make this situation any better; if not worse. She inhaled, and yelled hoarsely, "I'm here, Draco!" He came running to her from the end of the corridor, the light cast by the torch on the wall dancing across his sweaty face. She looked into his grey eyes, which were filled with concern.

"How did you know I was here?" she asked him uncertainly; her mind was still on the mysterious pounding that came from her stomach.

Draco swallowed before answering, his blonde hair sticking to his oval shaped face.

"I...don't...I don't know," he panted, clutching a stitch in his side.

"Something just told me that you were down here." He moved around to her side and sat down beside her, his face in his hands. Beaux drew in her knees, wrapping her arms around them. There was a pregnant pause where neither looked at each other. Then, at the same time, they started to babble off apologies.

"I'm sorry."

"I didn't mean what I said."

"I made a mistake."

"I don't know what I was thinking letting you go."

"I didn't know what Kara was doing!"

"Wait!" Draco shouted, and Beaux looked over at him, caught in the middle of a sentence. "What do you have to be sorry about? You're not the idiot who didn't give me a chance."

"Why are you looking for me?" Beaux asked him, completely ignoring his question. Then, as an afterthought, mumbled, "I bet Kara is looking for you."

"Actually," Draco said, a bit loud, "I figured out what she was doing to you. She stole the love you had for me and put it into herself, then proceeded to try and make me fall in love with her."

"Did it work?" she asked, looking into his eyes once again.

"Of course not!" he cried, taking her hand. He was startled to feel her icy skin beneath his; usually it was so warm. "I love you, Beaux, why can't you see that?"

"But, Draco," she told him, getting up and walking to the other side of the corridor, "you said it yourself. Kara stole my love for you. I can't love you again. It just doesn't work that way."

Draco stood up, but didn't walk over to Beaux. He didn't want to make her more uncomfortable than she probably already was.

"Beaux, listen. Can we please just talk? I...I made a mistake," he said, sounding defeated at admitting this. "I made the worst mistake of my life by letting you go."

When she didn't answer, Draco said (more to her back), "You don't have to forgive me. I don't know what came over me that day. But I didn't give you a chance to explain fully. I was shocked, angry, all the things I shouldn't have been with you. You didn't deserve that."

Beaux turned around to face him, her eyes teary. But Draco noticed something wrong. Her eyes, still green, had a dazed and far off look to them. "Draco?" she whispered hoarsely, and suddenly, and her body collapsed, falling against the wall with a thud.

"BEAUX!" Draco screamed, running to her side. He bent down and felt her wrist; she was dead cold. She still had a pulse, but it was so fast that he could barely count the beats between each. He checked her head and stomach to make sure there was no bleeding. But as he was checking her stomach, he noticed something odd. A rather large lump had formed in the centre, and when he pressed down on it, he felt, with amazement, a second lump. He took his hand away quickly, and looked at Beaux's face. It was sweaty and worn, her eyes closed in a painful manner.

"Bloody hell," he muttered to himself, and, lifting up Beaux in his arms, walked as fast as he could to the Hospital Wing.

* * *

"Will she be okay?"

"I'm not sure as of yet, Mr. Malfoy."

"Poppy, how long has she been unconscious?"

"Nearly two hours, but she should be waking any time soon."

"Can you do anything else to wake her?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Malfoy, but we cannot take any risks without knowing what the outcome will be. It is far too early to know anything is one hundred percent."

Voices shook Beaux from the darkened place she had been. There were people speaking softly, their words mixing together, making it hard for her to make out exactly what they were saying. She opened her eyes weakly. It was dark; she had been out longer than it had felt. All she knew was that she was in the Hospital Wing, and three dark figures stood standing near the entrance. By the sound of their voices, Beaux guessed that they were Draco, Madame Pomfrey, and Dumbledore. As she tried to manoeuvre herself so that she would be able to correctly hear them, a stabbing pain shot into her stomach, and she screamed piercingly. The conversations stopped abruptly, and the next thing Beaux knew, Draco was at her side, along with Dumbledore and Madame Pomfrey.

"What's...happening to me?" she cried, barely able to speak under the pain.

"Dumbledore and Madame Pomfrey have been trying to decide that for the past few hours, but they didn't want to do anything until you awoke," Draco told her, brushing her untidy hair out of her sweaty face.

"Ms. Chasity..." Dumbledore started, but Beaux stopped him.

"It's all right, Professor," she explained. "He knows." She nodded towards Draco.

"Hmm, very well," he said, and cleared his throat to begin again.

"Ms...Riddle, Madame Pomfrey wishes to ask you a few, er, rather personal questions. Do you wish Mr. Malfoy and myself to leave the infirmary?"

"I'd rather have Draco stay, if that's alright," Beaux said hoarsely, her eyes watering with pain.

"As you wish," Dumbledore said, patting Beaux's hand softly before striding out of the room in his elegant night robes.

"Mr. Malfoy, you may want to take a seat," Madame Pomfrey said quietly, moving to Beaux's right side of the bed. Draco pulled out his wand from his robes and muttered "locomotor chairius," and a chair skidded across the room, stopping in front of the bed.

"Now then, my dear," Madame Pomfrey started, "how long have these pains been happening?"

"Er...they just started today," Beaux whispered, closing her eyes as a wave of nausea came to her. She breathed in deeply, and exhaled, the pain subsiding just barely.

"I see," she muttered, waving her wand at a clipboard that lay on a nearby table. "Have the pains been only happening in your stomach and lower abdomen?"

"Yes, and could I please have some water? I feel a bit sick," she told the Nurse, but it was Draco who sat her up and helped her drink down a few gulps of water.

"That's enough, we don't want to give her too much, Mr. Malfoy," she said sternly, but her eyes were filled with worry as Beaux looked back at her.

"Anything else, Madame..." she began, but another pain ripped through her stomach, and she screamed, sitting up straight and grabbing her stomach. Madame Pomfrey and Draco pulled her back down, going against her will.

"You have to be calm, Ms. Riddle!" Madame Pomfrey exclaimed over the young girl's shouts. "You'll wake the school!"

"Calm down, Beaux, I'm right here," Draco told her soothingly, taking her hand and squeezing it gently. But in turn, she squeezed right back, nearly crushing every bone in his hand. He winced, but did not let go.

"What's...the... Next...question?" Beaux asked the Nurse, panting and taking deep breaths.

"Right, um...have you engaged in any sexual intercourse during the past month?" she asked, and Draco and Beaux both looked up at her, then at each other.

"Yes...About three weeks ago," Beaux said, trying to relax. She knew what was coming before Madame Pomfrey even told her.

"Well, my dear, it looks like you're going to have a child," the Nurse said, and Draco looked back up at her, a look of confusion in his eyes.

"A what?" he whispered, and Beaux told him, "Draco, I'm...I'm pregnant."

Draco sat down again, dawning comprehension coming unto his face. "My God...I'm a...I'm going to be a father?"

Beaux nodded slowly, and Draco put his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking. It took a moment for her to realize that they were alone for the time being, so she sat up (with difficulty) and turned to face Draco.

"Draco, I'm sorry, I...if you want me to ask Madame Pomfrey to perform an Abortion Spell, then..."

"NO!" Draco shouted, and Beaux nearly fell off the bed as he stood and looked into her eyes. "'No' what?" she asked him weakly, her eyes filling with tears of pain.

"I mean no, I do not want an Abortion Spell," he told her, wiping his tears away. "I want to keep the child."

"You want to...to keep our child?" she repeated, tears of joy coming down her face and mixing with sweat.

"Yes, more than anything," he told her, kissing her forehead. "If that's what it takes to be with you, caring for our child and me giving up everything for you and them, I'll do it."

At this Beaux broke down entirely, sobbing into her hands. Draco leaned over hesitantly, not knowing whether she wanted him to hug her or not. He was still in shock at becoming a father; how could he be ready in time? He was on seventeen, barely an adult. How was he going to be able to support a family?

As he was reaching to touch Beaux, she let out a piercing scream, and her head flew back, covered in sweat.

"WHEN...WILL...IT...STOP?" she shrieked, grabbing the handlebars on each side of the bed.

Draco found himself feeling useless; he couldn't even comprehend what kind of pain she was in, so trying to comfort her wouldn't make the situation better. He just nodded his head and sat next to Beaux, taking her hand and stroking it. Her hair, her face, her entire body was drenched in cold sweat, and she bit her lip as another contraction stabbed at her stomach.

"Madame Pomfrey!" Draco shouted into the empty Hospital wing; he couldn't stand to see Beaux in such pain. "Madame Pomfrey, she needs your help!" The aged nurse came running from the back of the infirmary, her face flustered.

"Of course she needs my help, Mister Malfoy," she told him matter-of-factly, waving her wand at Beaux's bedside table. Instantly, an assortment of bottles and instruments appeared, some rather gruesome looking. "She's going into labour."

At this, Beaux looked up at Madame Pomfrey, her eyes chocolate brown as they had been the night Draco had ran into her.

"La...labour?" she asked the nurse, panting from the pain and strength it took to speak. "But, it's not possible, Draco and I only a month ago."

Madame Pomfrey sighed. "As I expected, you know nothing of a birth in our world."

"Is it different from a Muggle-birth?" Draco asked, looking paler than usual. He truly wanted to stay for the birth of his child, but he was also becoming nauseous at the thought. The nurse just waved her hand at him to quiet his questions.

"I will answer and explain everything to you in a moment," she told him, picking up a dark blue bottle in the shape of a large teardrop. "But right now I need to check on the child's health."

Draco stepped back as Madame Pomfrey drew close to the bed, and helped Beaux sit up, though with great difficulty, as she was in much pain.

"Now, I will need to see your stomach and lower abdomen, Miss Riddle, would you like Mister Malfoy to stay in the room?"

"Yes!" she said without hesitation, and looked up at him. "I mean," she told the nurse, "unless he wants to leave."

"I'll be fine," Draco said, though the voice that came out of him didn't quite sound like his own.

"All right," Madame Pomfrey said, sighing again as though she did this everyday. She lifted up Beaux's robes to her stomach, where the lump Draco had barely noticed before had now grown to the size of a large cantaloupe. The nurse, as Beaux and Draco watched (Beaux squinting her eyes shut in pain) took off the top of the tear-shaped bottle, and poured a thick liquid onto Beaux stomach. At once, the liquid started to steam, and Beaux shrieked out.

"It's FREEZING!" she shouted at the nurse, and Draco had to stifle a sigh of relief; he thought she had been burned.

"Well, would you rather have the cold or the foul tasting medicine, missy?" Pomfrey asked her, smiling when Beaux sighed and bit her lip to not shriek out.

Madame Pomfrey then started massaging her hands over the lump in Beaux's stomach, the steam from the medicine rising higher and higher.

"Ah, just as I suspected," the nurse mumbled, pressing rather painfully down Beaux bladder. "The baby is as healthy as a hippogriff and it just about ready to be born."

Draco gasped; he hadn't expected the birth of his unborn child to be so soon! As Madame Pomfrey was cleaning the liquid off of Beaux's stomach, he asked her yet again, "Are wizard pregnancies and births erm...speedier than Muggle ones?"

"By far, yes," Pomfrey said, not even bothering to look at him as she waved her wand again; the bottles and mixtures were vanished and in their place stood a cauldron, sitting perfectly balanced on its side.

"How much farther?" Beaux panted, biting down on her lip again as another contraction caused her severe pain.

"Well, when the child is first conceived, it's growing rate is about one hundred times faster than that of a Muggle Child," Pomfrey explained, filling the cauldron with a clear substance. "You and Mr. Malfoy conceived about three to four weeks ago. Therefore, the child is about nine months ahead of the average Muggle Child."

Draco looked back at Beaux's stomach; it amazed him so that a child was actually growing in there. Madame Pomfrey filled the cauldron to the brim and muttered a spell Draco could not comprehend. Instantaneously, the liquid turned jet black, and smelled highly of Vaseline and dragon breath.


End file.
